


The University Library

by VennReverie



Series: The Holy See of Ishgard University [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Professors, Angst, F/M, Female Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fluff, Ishgard (Final Fantasy XIV), Professors, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:48:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29007801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VennReverie/pseuds/VennReverie
Summary: Welcome to the library of the Holy See of Ishgard University!A collection of drabbles from my University AU Found here:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/20275276They are set in random times throughout and are small moments that I deemed to not fit within the main story as that one progresses and grows!So grab a seat amongst the tomes, be careful not to spill your tea and enjoy perusing a few tales found within the depths of this great library.Oh and please try to be quiet, else Professor Augurelt will get mad.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light, Haurchefant Greystone/Warrior of Light, Warrior of Light/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: The Holy See of Ishgard University [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1494764
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**1:** **The library entrance, you are here!**

 **2:** **Dedication** \- Our esteemed Professor Light and Aymeric share a quiet moment together whilst reading an old Ishgardian play. Oh and Haurchefant and Estinien are there too.

 **3:** **Dysphoria -** A soulstone once abandoned, our WoL is reunited with a piece of history she had long buried.

 **4:** **Holistic -** Haurchefant spends a small moment contemplating one of his favourite subjects, love.


	2. Dedication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our esteemed Professor Light and Aymeric share a quiet moment together whilst reading an old Ishgardian tale. Oh and Haurchefant and Estinien are there too. 
> 
> \------

Nighttime had bloomed, bleeding through snow caked windows yet hardly encroaching upon the warmth that was encapsulated safely within the halls and rooms of Borel Manor. 

The pale blackened blues of night softly touched by streetlamps were no competition to the rich blue tapestries and warm gold decor against the deep mahogany of the drawing room interior. Two fireplaces crackled quaintly, deep shadows lurked underneath furniture, creeping behind chair legs as the soft glows of candles gently bathed the couple in warmth. 

Professor Light was asleep upon Aymeric’s lap, small sighs came from her as she dozed off momentarily. Aymeric fondly gazed down at her, gently rubbing circles upon the fabric of her dress, where his hand rested across her stomach. 

She made a small noise, turned her head to feel fabric and muscle shift beneath where she rested her gently upon his lap. Fingers tenderly combed back strands of her from her face as she peered up, eyes like darkened clear skies gazed down upon her, the light of the fire like a sunset that burned with softness dancing in his irises. 

Aymeric made a small noise, one of a deep rumble of acknowledgement.

She smiled, inhaling a deep sigh, taking in the scent of him as she let her eyelids lazily half shutter, sleep still pressed at the corners of her mind as she stifled a thick yawn. 

“I apologise,” Light said. “You were reading to me and I dozed off.” 

She stretched a hand up lovingly to cup his face, arm reaching past his occupied hand which held a small book, worn cover with the title almost vanishing beneath creases and scuffs. _The Legend of Ishgard: The Knight and the Princess._

It was an old fictional tale that was popular for Ishgardian kids. It was being adapted into a play at the University by the Theatre Society and Aymeric, through the intrigue of Light’s lack of knowledge of the tale, thought it would be a good time to indulge her in it. 

He sighed into her touch, lightly turned his head to press a kiss into her palm as she beamed at him in response, rubbing her thumb along his jawline to track the perfect angles of his face. 

“My beloved, you were not gone long.” Aymeric said, smiling kindly as he shifted his fingers from loose curls of her white hair to entwine them with her hand, curling his long fingers over her own as he planted his lips against each of her fingers. 

“Besides,” he continued, “Our other guests have also dozed off momentarily.” He cast his gaze slowly over her left shoulder, his reading glasses flashed slightly in the dim light of the drawing room as the lanterns burned, the fireplace simmering down and requiring a new log as embers died out. 

She turned her head and tried to contain a quick chuckle. “Ah, I see.” 

Across the coffee table, piled high with papers and documents, a tray of biscuits and

cups with now tepid tea, Estinien lay face down upon the chaise lounge, limbs a tangle over either side and Starfire, Aymeric’s old cantankerous cat was a ball of bedraggled white upon his back. He snored. Both of them snored. His shirt was half unbuttoned, messily shoved into his trousers as the collar crushed against his face, his mouth open and pressed against one hand. 

Slightly more elegantly, but not quite, Haurchefant was poised in a tall armchair to the left, head dangling forward as his own copy of the play was precariously balanced in an open hand, perched on the crook of his knee. A curtain of grey hair covered his face, arm unsuccessfully keeping his head upright. 

“I suppose it _was_ a bedtime story for us when we were but kids.” Aymeric said, feigning a laugh, “Though is my tone in reading that dulcet?” 

Light looked up at him to see him with a jokingly hurt expression and she giggled, pressing her hand against his chest as she folded herself upwards, twisting her body round to rest against his shoulder. 

“Your voice is naught but like a fine red wine,” she crooned, pawing at his arm as she pulled the book closer to her. “Nothing compares, a deep velvety tone that can temper even the wildest of souls.”

“You flatter me so, my beloved.” 

She was being poetic as she felt the heat rise to his neck, turning his pale skin red. “Now pray, let us read together.” 

A twist of Aymeric’s head indicated how close he was to hers as she wrapped an arm around his own, letting him brush his nose against her temple and kissing her brow. 

He cleared his throat, a deep rousing noise so low that it almost rumbled through the room. Light felt his chest move as he did and heard the sudden snort of two fully grown elezen men jolt from their slumbers. 

She laughed playfully, pressed her forehead against his neck as Haurchefaunt made a small shout, exclaiming something about chocobos and a storm and Estinien grunted, almost flailing to keep himself balanced upon the chaise, disgruntled meows of protest could be heard as Frostfire shifted to remain upon the Dragoons back. 

“ _The knight had reached a sacred fountain, having bested the beast that lurked in the labyrinth erefore.”_ Aymeric began, casting his eyes down to the page as Light read along. “ _From it a beautiful fairie appeared, swathed in fabrics of the finest silks, jewels and coins of unimaginable worth spilled forth from the purified waters of the marble dais.”_

“‘ _O brave warrior, thoust have battled the monstrosities that have lurked within the depths of this cavernous domain.’ spoke the fairie. ‘For that you have earned a prize, a wish, treasure from this fair fountain of wonder.’”_ Came a simpering, high pitched voice, accented by amusement. 

Light and Aymeric looked across the room to see that Haurchefant was sat up properly again, the book clutched in his hand, a large smirk bore across his face as his eyes glinted with glee as he peered at the couple before him. Light laughed heartily. 

“‘ _I know what I seek of, I wish to know where the fair maiden has been held captive. For that is a wish I would beg of you to fulfil.’ Said the knight. ‘I wish not for treasure or riches untold, merely to save her from evil.’”_ Aymeric said. “ _The fairie looked contemplative for a moment, landing upon the treasure she stepped forward, across the hoard of coins and gems and spoke gently.-”_

“-’ _But brave knight,_ ’” Light began to read, causing Aymeric to glance at her in pleasant surprise, “‘ _I could offer you all the power of the land and the wealth of many kings if you wish so. Why would one want to encounter more danger, to find someone who is simple and modest, when wealth and fortune could bring you many a fine woman.’”_

There was a beat of silence, Haurchefant’s stifled excitement could be heard from across the room. 

Aymeric didn’t even look at the page. He stared at Light, gazed longingly and with fondness into her eyes as his voice read words memorised, firm and devoted in tone laced amongst delicate notes of love. 

_“‘You must mistake my intent, for I do not seek wealth and fortune O great fairie, but to save the woman who has, since the day I laid eyes upon her, lay claim to my heart.-’”_ Aymeric leaned down, pressed his forehead to hers. She could feel the warmth of his breath cast across her face. _“‘- Wherever she goes, I will surely follow. For she is worth more than the richest of treasures and the mightiest of kings.’”_

His nose brushed fervently across her cheeks as she felt him place a small loving kiss upon her lips. She smiled into him, leaning forward as he finished. 

“‘ _For no other woman shall compare.’”_

Wild clapping could be heard, snapping through the air as the two of them looked across to see Haurchefant perched forward on his seat, having enjoyed the spectacle in some voyeuristic fashion. 

“Bravo, _bravo!_ My lord, my lady, why they should cast you as the main characters! Oh my fragile heart, it aches with joy to have bore witness to this tender moment.” 

Haurchefant leapt to his feet, throwing his arms out and swiftly began to waltz around the room, as if clutching a partner in his hands. “Think of how beautiful your costumes would be for the ballroom scene!” 

Light laughed. “I daresay it would be remiss of us to steal the thunder of the Theatre Society.” 

“Tch.” Came a disgruntled voice as Estinien spoke up, “It was way too saccharine for my liking. Always hated that tale when I was young anyway.” 

“Aw my dear disgruntled dragoon, too much love for you to bear? Perhaps the society could cast you as the snarling beast who has swept the fair maiden away.” Haurchefant teased, sweeping past Estinien in goading, “They would save a _lot_ of gil on their costume for you, as you barely need any to look the part-” 

One second Haurchefant was upright, the next he had fallen, thundering to the ground like a large loping tree. He had tripped suddenly over an outstretched foot, its source the harumpfing man upon the chaise who tried to contain his laugh by masking it as a violent cough. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole Theatre Society having a play is something I absolutely might expand on too! Because I can imagine what chaos the Professors would bring to the table if they were roped in!


	3. Dysphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A soulstone once abandoned, our WoL is reunited with a piece of history she had long buried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, CW for implied anxiety/panic attack.
> 
> Second: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE DRK QUESTLINE & FOR SHADOWBRINGERS - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 
> 
> Ok we good? Cool. 
> 
> I wrote this a good while ago when I had started levelling DRK and I think the storyline has been some of the best I've experienced in the game so far. When I came back to writing the University storyline I had to slot DRK elements in because I felt it was so fitting to Light's character and the trauma from events on The First. 
> 
> \---

“That’s it for class today, please read over chapter fourteen of G’raha Tia’s memoirs of The First, we will be discussing it in our next class.” Light called, her voice carrying over the shuffling of parchment and the hurried murmurs as students began to file from the chilly classroom. Chairs scraped, pens and pencils clattered and the bells announcing the change of period tolled throughout the university campus, an echo that reverberated through the misty air outside. 

Light smiled quietly, placing a hand on the desk in front of her as she smiled, watching her students leave her classroom. Once the large door closed she felt her smile falter. She had a good part of her afternoon free now before her final class of the day. 

The list of errands she had to run, books to pick up and notes to prepare all filed through her mind, coming forward to her minds eyes before she cast them aside as she thumbled nimble fingers into her trouser pocket, feeling the ragged edges of crystal that immediately pricked and dragged away all her other thoughts. 

It was an itching, burning curiosity, something that had lingered at the edges of her focus all morning, since Y’shtola had returned it to her. 

She had to satisfy the itch. 

Estinien’s class would still be in the gymnasium, she thought, biting the tip of her thumb as she wondered where would be a quiet place for her to see. 

Then she remembered the outdoor training grounds, not far from the gymnasium and tucked away behind the chocobo stables. They were often used at the end of the day for extra curricular training classes. 

_Perfect._

\--- 

It was the last thing Light expected when Y’shtola caught her attention in one of the many courtyards that morning. The warrior had just bid goodbye to Alisaie and Alphinaud who she had been checking in on, when the black mage had waved a hand in the direction of Light, passing through a throng of students as she called her given name. 

“Master Matoya,” Light said, bowing her head courteously, “What do I owe the pleasure?” 

She gave her a smirk for being so formal, extending a closed hand out towards her. 

“Tataru wished for me to pass this on to you from my last visit to the Rising Stones,” the miqo’te said, “She found it whilst cleaning your room, in pieces under your bed. I took the liberty of fixing it with aether, it was no easy task but I feel it was something of great import you wouldn’t wish to leave abandoned for any longer.” 

Light’s eyes widened as Y’shtola opened her hands, revealing a soulstone. 

She felt her heart stutter slightly, her breath catch just behind her teeth as she bit her tongue. 

“Ah.” Light said. 

It was her job stone. The one for the Dark Knight. 

It was crystal, deep scarlet as it caught the moody morning light, bloody and red against Y’shtola’s skin. It was jagged, the symbol of the abyss a scorched gold upon it’s centre. Any evidence of it ever being shattered into pieces was long gone as it looked immaculate and unscathed as the day Light had received it. 

Y’shtola blinked, peering at her with her aethered stare as she felt the dismay in Light’s reaction. 

“I apologise, I know full well of the trials it carried for you when we were all on The First, Tataru knows not any of this.” Y’shtola said, a kind smile spread over her features, “But I hoped perhaps one would maybe wish to keep it as a form of closure. A memento of a chapter now written. Tataru insisted.” 

With a careful hand, Light reached out and took the stone from her palm, the aether pulsed with a familiar heavy feeling as she pocketed it. It felt deep, like red wine, dark berries, a summer sun, the heat of battle and the thick cloying taste of blood- 

“Possibly the most taxing of jobs for my aether,” Light said, “But it would be ignorant of me to not admit it certainly did turn the tide of battle against some of the fiercest Lightwardens we fought.” 

Y’shtola gave a slight nod. “I pray in these times it won't be a necessity to harness it’s full power any time soon.” 

A hand on her arm, another kind smile. 

“You were the finest Warrior of Darkness the First ever saw.” 

\--

Warrior of Darkness. 

The opposite of light, the abyss that clung to her. 

Like oil it cloyed at her, soiling her, making her feel impure. 

But Dark Knights were more common since Eorzea hit the golden age of peace, it was a different time now. 

Yet the apprehension still nipped at her, a dark rime that toyed with the edges of her soul.

\--- 

She held the stone in her hand, pressed one of its edges against her skin, as if the sharp prick of pain was satisfying. 

The mist that had descended upon Ishgard had still not left even by lunchtime and as Light stood in the training ground it was like a pale thick wall of swirling fog that hid most of the rooftops of the Holy See. 

As if hiding her sins. 

The training ground was a walled area that was tucked away near the back of the University, a plateau of grass and ground with training dummies and the occasional stone bench. Neatly trimmed by ornate balustrades, it overlooked a portion of Ishgard, with a backdrop of large cavernous Ishgardian structure to accompany. The walls behind her were high, the classroom windows did not even begin until several hundred feet up. 

A grey gradient of gloom fell across the area, her draw distance of sight was reduced greatly as the fog was chilly, cold, but crisp. It was less damp and more the sign of oncoming snow. 

The soulstone felt warm in her hand, like a beating heart it called to her. It’s sirensong thrummed through her aether, a melodic echo with an enchanting allure of great power.

Power that she had learnt to control, but with a price. 

She remembered why she had abandoned it, split it into three large pieces with the hilt of one of her weapons, tossed it aside for it to be brushed under the bed of her room in the rising stones. 

It was the pain, the anguish of seeing people around her suffer, to see the Scion’s slumber which had unlocked the Dark Knight for her.

It was the first Lightwarden, her feeble attempts to attack with sword and shield were met with much more power than she had ever experienced. 

Alisaie, Alphinaud, Urianger… Thancred… thrown aside by their attacks. 

She was yelling.

And then a voice. 

Her voice.

Speaking back to her.

A hand, outstretched. 

Darkness. 

Then as she gripped that hand, felt the familiarity with herself but _not_ herself.

She wanted to avenge them, to slay those that would bring harm to those that she loved. To those that she wanted to protect. To do it through her own choices, not through the expectations of those that required her to. 

She clutched her palm tight, felt the stone appear in her hand, crushing into her skin as she drew blood. 

Then her sword, a new sword. 

And the power. It was delicious. 

She had embraced the abyss, the darkness, slayed those who stood in her way. The blood was warm, fresh from the LightWarden’s corpse. 

It was as if the shadows had claimed her, tainted her soul. She had been tired, so tired of the suffering. This new voice had given her the strength to fight back. 

She only ever had called upon it when it was the Lightwardens, it was too powerful otherwise. 

Then it became too much. Combined with absorbing the ethereal light of the wardens, she was physically burdened to the point the Scions had to intervene. 

Thancred suggested she learn the way of the gunblade instead. 

Then after everything. The Scions return, less of the _need_ … the _desire_ to be strong…

She swore not to let it consume her again. 

\--- 

Here it was again, whole and shining in her palm. 

Perhaps it was time to not be scared of it anymore. Afterall, it was part of her. 

Part of who she was… part of who she _had_ been. 

The First had changed her, made her afraid to love, afraid to let anyone to protect her. She wanted to be strong for herself, for everyone. It had been her duty as Warrior of Light. 

Light held the stone out in her palm, motioning up and down as if testing the weight of the stone. It was heavy, a perfect balance she knew well. She became more generous in her movement and the stone eventually hovered away from her hand, remaining suspended in mid air. 

Then in one quick movement, Light pulled her arm back, swinging it round to grab the stone, snatch it, pluck loose the energy that was emanating from it’s bloody red core. 

It was as if she had been hit by a herd of wild dragons. Right in the centre of her abdomen it struck her. A heavy weight, punching her in the gut. She gripped the stone harder, braced her foot into the grass, feet sinking through frosted earth as she clenched her teeth against the burst of abyssal energy. 

All of it came flooding back, the darkness, the power. 

The _feeling._

Her clothes changed, billowing wild robes of black leather and metal platelets spiralled from her hand outwards, clothing her. 

Then that familiar cold hilt came within reach of her fingerless gloves, clasped tightly by knuckles and fingers that had turned white from the grip. 

And then that feeling again. She could hear it all, it was great, gnawing, endless. 

Those that she had lost. That drove her to fight. 

The agony of those that cared for her, their feelings and worry endless. 

It cloyed at her very heart, pulsed through blood and sinew as she cried out, the pressure too much. 

Her heart thundered as she fell to her knees, using her greatsword for balance as she struck it into the ground, black scratched metal that pierced the crust of white frost as if it were nothing. The force cracked the earth around her in a large radius. 

Tears and sweat clung to her face as she doubled over, using her free hand to clutch her stomach as she threw up.

Her breathing became laboured, it broke into frantic short intakes as she clenched her teeth, trying to not cry out.

But there was no restraining the loud, raw sob that burst from her lips.

It was guilt she felt.

Mud sank under her fingertips as she tried to prop herself up on the hilt of her sword, the swirls of black abyssal magic mingling with tinges of red continued to spiral around her.

She just needed to be strong again, walk with it, carry the burden, be at peace with it-

Blood pounded in her ears, interrupted by the sound of the pounding of feet that fell out of sync behind her.

She turned, eyes wide and staring as she twisted her neck round, peered to see the figure burst through dense icy fog across the grounds.

A swathe of black and blue cloaks, curly raven hair bobbing, framing concerned azure eyes as Aymeric stared horrified at Light.

She threw her arm behind her, one leg slid through the mud, flecks caked her face as she yelled.

“NO!”

Aymeric froze in his tracks, skidded to a stop, mouth open.

“PLEASE.” Light cried. “DONT LOOK AT ME.” 

Shame, weakness, embarrassment tightened around her. 

The pressure of the magic around her was too much. It was crushing her and she didn’t know how to stop it.

She curled inwards, threw her other hand to grip the hilt of her great sword. Bear with it. 

Then she felt them, arms, long and strong, envelope around her from behind. The sound of someone falling to their knees behind her.

Aymeric.

She was trembling now. His chest pressed into her back, his cheek came to press against her ear as he crushed her small fragile form against him. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, it’ll be ok…” he soothed, his voice low and rumbling against her, a gentle trill that slowly seeped into her senses, nudging them to.

Like an antidote, the elezen’s voice and touch proved to be a salve, the pressure crushing her decreased, the magic dissipated slowly and she slumped backwards, sinking into Aymeric’s form further.

“Haurchefant told me you were here,” Aymeric began, “Something felt amiss, he said you had been not looking well of sorts all morning.” He pulled her closer, burying his head into her hair. Light felt his weight against her, making small noises as she tried to level her breathing.

“Oh Aymeric.” Light breathed, loosening her grip on her sword as she palmed her face, “I didn’t- I didn’t want you to see me like this. I’m a monster.”

She felt pathetic, wracked by the impact the soul Crystal had on her, it had been years since she’d last been a Dark Knight and it was clear. It was a myriad of pain and torment, memories she had stifled came flooding back, unable to control for she had forgotten how to wield this otherworldly power. 

“Shh, take a deep breath if you can.” Aymeric said, a low timbre in his voice as he squeezed her, rubbing his hand across her back. “I am here and I wont be going anywhere, no matter what you tell me.” 

Light choked, gasped on dry cold air as she wheezed. 

“I can’t, I can’t control it anymore.” 

“You can.” Aymeric said, “I believe in you.” 

“I, I’m scared - “ 

“It too shall pass. It will be ok.” Aymeric said, his voice almost a low growling whisper against her hair. The vibrations from his chest could be felt faintly against her back as she trembled. The magic around her felt powerful, crushing as she clenched her eyes, shifting her focus on Aymeric’s hold on her, how she _could_ manage this, it couldn’t hurt her. 

_The past can’t hurt you._

“It will be ok.” Aymeric repeated again, rubbing deep circles in her back, rocking her slightly. 

There was a pull, a shift in aether as Light felt her abyssal magic flow from her, a strong pulse that made her open her eyes, staring in front of her as Aymeric’s head too shifted to look ahead. 

Then a voice, familiar. 

“He is right you know.” 

Darkness, a shadowy figure, large pauldrons, _large sword._

And two gleaming, yellow eyes, hollowed into the dark slits of their helm. 

“Who is-” Aymeric breathed, holding Light tighter in protection. 

“F- Fray.” Light rasped, feeling her eyes go wide, raw and fresh still from crying. 

“No more.” They said, “No more of this.” 

They stooped down upon one knee, their sword planted in the ground, mirroring the pose Light was still in. 

A gauntleted hand reached out, shimmering, raw darkness. 

Aymeric could be felt going stiff, Light noticing his breathing had stilled as her own breathing began to finally simmer down. 

“Absolve yourself of the past.” They said, the hand ghosted over her face. She could feel a coolness spread across her cheek, as if wet… but not. 

“Forgive yourself. Like we forgave Myste.” They finished. 

She inhaled, the cool air like cold steel slicing through her lungs. Clean, cut, crisp. Reaching forward her limbs _ached_ as her hands out stretched to grasp the ghostly vistage of the hand in front of her. Ethereal, chaos, yet calming. 

Darkness.

The abyss. 

“I’ll.” Light began. “I’ll be ok. The past can’t hurt me.” 

Fingers clasped around a heavy darkness, a weight that spread through her palm yet it felt empty at the same time. Confusing yet comforting senses overwhelmed her as the figure surged forward, their face crushing against hers, bursting.

A voice, close to her ear, an echoing whisper. 

“Good.”

The shadow disappeared in a flurry of dark ghost-like ribbons, falling to pieces, glittering darkly into the fog. 

In the training ground, the deafening, muffling silence fell upon them again, nought but the fog remained, encircling Aymeric and Light in a thick halo as before. 

Aymeric shifted only slightly, letting Light fall back into his grasp and she felt the aches and pains of fatigue creep over her, seeping into the very marrow of her bones, her soul. 

She felt his long arms encapsulate her as she stopped trembling, looking up to see dazzling blue eyes pierce the monotone around them, smoldering affection that wavered through his irises, iridescent and beautiful. 

She slowly reached up, stroking with exposed skin through leather fingerless gloves the sharpness of his face and he leant into it, gently fluttering kisses upon the tips. 

“Thank you.” She said quietly, eyes crinkling together. 

“I will follow your heart, through darkness and light.” Aymeric said slowly, he sounded emotional, a deep tone weighted to the sacrament of his words. 

“And I, you.” Light replied, feeling her chest swell. Her words seemed to strike a spark of joy within Aymeric’s eyes, they watered slightly as he curled over her, clutching her as if she could suddenly disappear without a moment's notice. 

They remained in the still for a while, silent and in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented and enjoyed these drabbles so far! It makes me so happy to read your comments and inspires me to keep writing, though as messy and as drabbly as it can be lol. <3


	4. Holistic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haurchefant briefly spends some time contemplating one of his favourite subjects, love.

For someone whose heart was so open and so true, Haurchefant often pondered its meaning. 

Love, though universal across all of the realm, was a complex thing. 

Though the word was four letters in its simplicity, it had many facets, many sides. Many aspects that glittered and shone like a beautiful gem, shining and gorgeous even in the darkest of times. 

And for the denizens of the University, this rang true. 

What _is_ love? 

For the astrologians who lingered in the upper towers of the building, buried in their textbooks and telescopes, love was a miracle. Love was when the stars aligned and fate hath dealt them a kind hand in the cards they held dear. Love felt like when everything came together in beautiful harmony, the glittering abundance of the night sky providing them the guidance they so wished to seek, their cards providing them the comfort and paths that made perfect sense. Love was a guide. It was hope. 

For the fighters, the _dragoons_ , love was physical. Carnal. It was someone who warmed your bed in the coldest Coerthan nights. It was someone whom you shared a connection with, found pleasure with. Sought that feeling of bliss from which you discovered both of you just slotted together so _perfectly_ that it was no mere coincidence that they were to cross paths with you. It was the solace you seeked beneath, a joy you chased, the feeling of such close contact, fingertips on skin- 

“Ah my dear dragoon, I feel that is rather enough for now, even for me.” Haurchefant chuckled, his face pink as he patted the dragoon knight on a pauldron shoulder, upon an area that was free of spikes. The dragoon, a visitor from the barracks who had come to train the students alongside Estinien, smiled coyly, his blush hidden beneath his helm. 

In the distance, Estinien glared, his own ears a bright red as Alphinaud looked at him curiously, wondering what he had heard. 

Love for the white mages and the botanists was bountiful. It was serene. Like the gardens they occupied upon the roofs of the university, preserved by magic it was full, colourful. It was a rich tapestry of harmony that draped over the area. For the healers love felt like aether that was entwined, a perfect balance of sweetness that left you feeling full and content. To give love was unconditional, to care for others, to share such a radiant feeling expecting nothing in return. The botanists felt like love was seeing wonder in the world even where there seemingly was none. To grow and nourish something from such tiny beginnings, a small feeling that eventually would flourish and bloom with those you held dear. Love was a journey, it was nurture. 

Love, for the Scions, was family. Belonging. A ragtag gathering of fighters and scholars and everything in between that supported each other through thick and thin. And as the twins described it once, no better love could be found that those they had endured so much with. Love for them was sharing chaotic meals around an uneven wooden table with unmatched crockery and homemade lemonade. Love was holding those close to you even when you could not see them, when in different countries, sleeping in different beds, even existing in different worlds. Love was fondness, care, endearment even when they irritated you. Love was fighting tooth and nail to overcome tragedies, challenges and battles where all odds were stacked against you, that one small spark would shine through still, pulling you through that tide that tried to drag you under. Love was camaraderie, devotion, an unspoken force that made you feel _strong._

And it was one night, in Fortemps Manor as Haurchefant and Aymeric shared a drink together, tucked away in a corner of the drawing room, that the Silver Fuller contemplated this. 

The comfortable silence had gently been broken between them as Aymeric placed his whiskey glass softly down upon the coaster, azure eyes staring into the fire next to them as he held a small smile. A slight twitch on one side of his lips threatened to make his usual composure appear lopsided as if feigning something that was making him giddy. 

And then Aymeric spoke. 

He had fallen in love with Professor Light. 

With the Warrior of Light.

And in that moment Haurchefant had pondered all he knew about love, wondered if for Aymeric too, it was holistic. 

That the love he was harbouring encompassed _everything_. Not one aspect would simply be enough.

Not one thing could truly define the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick drabble I had to know out of my head before it was lost! Hope you enjoyed :)


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